TransFigured
by picascribit
Summary: Remus has a secret: he's not a werewolf. RLxSB Hogwarts-era AU. Warning: transgender character written by cisgender author, bullying, attempted suicide, transphobia, underage sexual activity. Current Chapter: Remus can't get enough of touching Sirius, but he's still nervous about letting Sirius reciprocate.
1. Chapter 1

_**Warning:** Trans* character written by cis author, references to Dark magic, bullying, attempted suicide, transphobia. Not a "born this way" trans* story; there's a magical twist for the magical world. _

_**Notes:**__ I have tried to create a sensitive portrayal of a transgender character. I believe there should be more trans* visibility in fanfiction. Obviously Remus's experiences are uniquely his own, and there is no single right way to be trans* or to feel about being trans*. It's possible I've made a mess of this, regardless of my intentions. If so, then I apologise and humbly ask for wise advice and/or resources to help me improve any problematic aspects of this story._

* * *

He could not really remember what it had been like, before. He had been too young. Sometimes he wished he could recall what it had felt like to be whole - to be himself - but more and more as he grew older, he felt that knowing what he had lost would be too much to bear. Mostly, Remus Lupin just felt alone.

Making friends was difficult. His special circumstances made him awkward and self-conscious around other children. The secret locked inside him was too big and too complicated for him to explain in a way that they would understand. His parents loved him, and they did what they could to ease the path for him, but they did not always seem to know what to do with him, either. They researched spells and bought expensive potions that left Remus feeling sick and weak for days, but they could find nothing to reverse what had been done to him.

When he turned eleven, a flurry of owls had flown back and forth between the Lupin residence and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, culminating in a long meeting between Remus's parents and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"Will it be all right, though," asked his anxious father, "putting him in a dormitory with other boys?"

"I don't see why not," Headmaster Dumbledore smiled. "We take great care at Hogwarts to keep our students' personal and family matters private. There is no need for his roommates to know anything Remus does not wish to share with them."

"But if someone should find out - " said his mother.

"If Remus should ever feel the slightest concern for his safety or his privacy, he may come to me directly, or speak to the school matron, or his Head of House," Dumbledore assured her. "I have complete confidence in the discretion of my staff and their ability to deal with trouble, should the need arise."

In the end, the headmaster had managed to convince them that sending Remus to Hogwarts was in everyone's best interests, and that the care he would receive there would be every bit as good as that which his parents provided at home.

Remus spent his first weeks at school sick with terror. Every time he changed his clothes or took a shower, he expected his roommates to come bursting in and discover his secret. The first spell he learned on his own was a Locking Charm, and only when he was sure he had mastered it was he able to relax a little.

For the most part, his three roommates ignored him, and he avoided them. He spent his waking hours studying in the library, or reading, or walking alone in the school grounds. In the evenings, he went to bed early, sleeping - or pretending to - with his bed curtains drawn. Remus spoke to the others only when necessary, and tried not to draw attention to himself in lessons. His roommates thought he was boring. He didn't mind, though; being thought boring was better than being thought a freak.

The most challenging part of his secret to keep were his monthly appointments with Madam Pomfrey, the school matron. It was not always possible to schedule them for the weekends, and he was often left feeling weak and sick for hours afterwards, missing classes and sneaking back into the dormitory when his roommates were at meals, or after they had gone to asleep. When they inevitably asked where he disappeared to every month, he made his excuses as vague as possible.

"I was ill."

The lie was not difficult for his roommates to accept. Remus was small for a boy of his age, and frequently looked tired and unwell. So from then on, his roommates likely considered him sickly and a weakling, as well as boring.

But as the months passed, without his being aware of it at first, Remus gradually came to accept his roommates, and they him. Maybe it began the first time he laughed at one of James's jokes, or when Peter asked him for help with Defence Against the Dark Arts, or when he showed Sirius the proper way to cast the Jelly-Legs jinx. They began to include him in their playful banter, and then to invite him along on their pranks and adventures.

For a while, Remus was happier than he could ever remember being. He had friends, and his secret seemed safe. Sometimes his conscience twinged, especially when the others began to open up to him, sharing tales of their own personal struggles, but all of their troubles were relatively minor. Apart from the tears they sometimes fought to hide, they had nothing to feel ashamed of - no dreadful secrets that might jeopardise their friendship or their prospects for the future.

* * *

Things changed during the winter of Remus's second year at Hogwarts. His monthly visits to the hospital wing had been getting worse for some time. Madam Pomfrey raised the dosage of his potions, but it wasn't enough to counteract the changes in his growing body, and only made him sicker than ever. Following his January appointment, he awoke in his infirmary bed to find blood on the sheets. The matron helped him clean up and brewed him a calming tea, but he was still shaking when he returned to the dormitory that evening. He showered and changed quickly, and had his bed curtains closed by the time his roommates returned from supper.

Remus lay curled in a miserable ball beneath the covers, but sleep would not come. The dormitory beyond his curtains grew dark and quiet and Remus was exhausted, but all he felt was sick horror at the way his body continually betrayed him. When he could hold them back no longer, the tears came. _Crying like a girl,_ he berated himself, disgusted. He tried to be quiet, but he could not prevent a few deep, shuddering sobs from escaping. Holding his breath, willing himself into silence, Remus heard a floorboard creak. One of his roommates was out of bed. He shut his eyes tightly as his bed curtains rustled and parted.

"Remus? Are you OK?"

Sirius was easily the nosiest of his roommates. If Remus held still and stayed quiet, maybe Sirius would think he was asleep and go back to bed. But he could not hold his breath forever, and the sobs weren't finished with him yet. The air escaped from his lungs in a ragged gasp, and the mattress sank under his friend's weight.

"Remus, are you ill? D'you need the matron?"

"No." His voice broke around the word. "Go back to bed, Sirius. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're shivering." The covers shifted as his friend settled onto the bed beside him.

Remus quickly squirmed away to the opposite side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting comfortable," said Sirius. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"That's bollocks and you know it, mate. If you're fine, why d'you have to go see the matron all the time?"

"It's nothing. I'm just ill, all right?"

"With what?"

"With none of your bloody business, Black."

Remus's heart was pounding. Sirius wasn't just nosy; he was pushy, too. He wouldn't leave until he had an answer that satisfied him, and there was none that Remus could give him.

"Do I have to put Veritaserum in your pumpkin juice?"

"You wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't," Sirius relented. "Not to you, anyway. Snape, maybe. That might be funny. But I wouldn't do it to a friend."

"Well - good."

Sirius was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "We thought you might be a werewolf."

"What?" Remus almost laughed at the absurdity.

"Last year. James and I thought - but the dates didn't quite match up. With the full moons, I mean."

"Well, I'm not."

"I know. All I meant was, we thought you might be, and we still wanted to be friends. Whatever you're not telling us - how much worse could it be?"

That startled Remus. His roommates had thought he might be a Dark creature - a monster - and they had never let on, or treated him poorly because of it.

"You really would have been friends with a werewolf?"

Sirius nodded. "If you tell me what's really the matter, I swear I won't tell anyone. Not even James. And I'll tell you something I've never told anyone before. Something big."

"What?" Remus wavered.

"Not unless you promise to tell me."

Remus knew he had little choice but to give in. Sirius was like a dog with a bone when it came to mysteries and secrets; he wouldn't let go until he figured them out.

"All right," Remus finally agreed. "I'll tell you. But you have to tell yours first."

Sirius took a deep breath. "I think - I mean, I _know_ I'm - I like blokes. Not girls."

"Oh." Remus hadn't known what to expect, but that wasn't it.

"D'you hate me now I'm a shirt-lifter?" Sirius's tone aimed for jocularity, but missed. He was worried.

"No," Remus assured him. "No, it's fine."

"Don't - don't tell anyone, all right?"

"I won't."

"So - what's yours, then?"

Remus found that some of his fear had left him with his friend's confession. Still, it was no easy thing to tell. He couldn't just blurt it out like Sirius had done; he had to tell the story from the beginning to make his friend understand.

"My grandfather is a Death Eater," he began haltingly.

"Is that all?" Sirius sounded puzzled. "Loads of people in my family are probably Death Eaters."

"No," Remus told him. "That's just how it started."

Hector Westcote had made his fortune buying and selling rare and ancient spell books. By the time he reached middle age, he was one of the wealthiest men in Wizarding Britain. When his only child, Sylvia, had eloped with a Muggleborn wizard named Marcellus Lupin, Hector had disinherited her, changing his will to leave all his money to the organisation that came to be known as the Death Eaters.

"But he couldn't disinherit me," Remus explained. "Wizarding law says that the oldest male descendent is automatically the heir, so long as he's a wizard and hasn't disgraced the family name."

The Death Eaters, however, had not wanted to lose the Westcote fortune to a half-blood.

"They could have killed me, I suppose," said Remus, "but there would have been an investigation, and if they'd been found out, they would have lost the money anyway. So they hexed me instead."

"What did they do to you?"

"Only the oldest boy could inherit, so they -" Remus closed his eyes tight, hands bunched in the blankets, " - they turned me into a girl."

"They _what_?!" Sirius sat bolt upright.

"_Shhh!_" hissed Remus. "D'you want to wake the others?"

"Sorry," Sirius whispered. "So what happened then?"

Remus shrugged uncomfortably. "My parents didn't know what to do, except keep it secret and try to find a cure. Whoever hexed me couldn't say anything either - not without saying how they knew about it."

"Did they ever find a way to turn you back?"

"No." The word was bitter on his tongue.

"So. You're still a girl?"

"I'm - _no_." Remus scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling suddenly weary. "You wouldn't understand."

A hand touched his arm. "I'm trying, Remus," Sirius said gently. "Please?"

Remus looked his friend, though he was little more than an outline in the darkness. "They changed my body. They didn't change me. I have to take a bunch of potions every month to stop me from turning even more into a girl. That's why I go to the hospital wing. They're awful and they don't work very well, but there's nothing else I can do. I'm still a bloke here - " he pressed a hand to his heart, " - and here - " he touched his temple, " - just not there," he finished, waving a hand vaguely between his legs. "Can you understand that?"

Sirius nodded slowly. "I think so."

"And you won't tell anyone?"

"I promised, didn't I?"

"I won't tell anyone about you, either," Remus assured him.

Sirius snorted. "Mine doesn't seem like much now."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Remus's mouth. "Not really. But I won't tell, even so."

"Is it all right if I stay?" Sirius asked. "My bed's probably gone all cold while I've been over here being such a brilliantly understanding friend."

Remus's smile got the better of him. "You can stay."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Note:** I've split Chapter 2 in half, since it was so much longer than all the others, which has bumped up the number of all subsequent chapters. Sorry for any confusion this may cause._

* * *

After learning Remus's secret, Sirius became fiercely protective of him. Remus was grateful for his unwavering friendship, but it didn't always make things easier. Part of him worried that, for all his friend's good intentions, Sirius now thought of him as a girl in need of male protection.

Sirius also wasn't as good at hiding his feelings as Remus was. Towards the end of their third year, when James teased Remus, calling him a girl for liking reading more than Quidditch, Sirius broke his nose.

A tense period followed. Remus was upset with Sirius for his lack of self-control, Sirius was angry with James for his ignorant remarks, James was annoyed at Sirius for his inability to explain his violent outburst, and Peter was anxious about the discord between his friends.

Remus knew he shouldn't feel guilty. What had happened was entirely Sirius's fault. But he hated seeing James and Sirius at odds with one another because of him, and the last thing he wanted was to make Sirius choose between his friendship with James and his friendship with Remus. His self-doubt whispered to him that he couldn't win, and even if he could, the thought of James and Sirius's bond crumbling kept Remus awake at night, anxiety twisting in his belly.

He would have to tell them, and take the consequences. There was no other way. Remus felt sick. He was no fool; he knew how normal, healthy boys often treated freaks and oddities like him. Even Sirius had not wanted to tell the others about being queer. Everything had been so good between the four of them until now, but his secret was tearing them apart. Telling the truth might salvage at least part of their friendship. Or not. If it didn't, Remus decided he would go home to his parents. Perhaps taking himself out of the equation would make it easier for the others to patch things up.

The thought of losing the best friends he had ever known brought a fierce, empty ache to Remus's chest.

_I'll still have Sirius,_ he reminded himself. _Probably._ Could he count on Sirius's friendship, if the others turned against him? There was no way of knowing ahead of time.

Sirius noticed him picking at his food the next morning and dragged him outside after breakfast.

"What's wrong with you, mate? You look bloody awful," he said as they walked along the edge of the lake under a sky that promised a spring shower later on.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Remus confessed. "I - I'm going to tell them. James and Pete."

Sirius stopped in his tracks. "What? Why?"

"Because I can't stand it anymore," said Remus dully. "Everyone's annoyed and nobody's talking to anyone else. If we can't fix it - "

"No," Sirius insisted. "You shouldn't have to. It wasn't your fault. I'll tell James I'm sorry."

Remus gave him a sceptical look. "You think that'll work? No explanation necessary?"

"Maybe." Sirius shrugged.

"I don't think so. Telling the truth might do it, though. If they don't like it, I'll go."

Sirius looked confused. "Go where?"

"Home. Then you can patch things up with them. You'll all be friends again, once I'm out of the way."

Sirius gaped at him. "You'd leave? Just like that? I thought we were friends."

"We are." Remus swallowed the helpless feeling that threatened to choke him. "But if you can only be friends with them or me, you should pick them. It will be better for you."

"Will it be better for you?" asked Sirius angrily.

"It doesn't matter."

Sirius turned away and glared out over the lake, hands in his pockets, refusing to say another word. Finally, Remus gave up and went back into the castle, feeling utterly wretched.

There was no time to tell anyone anything that morning, and again at lunch, Remus found himself unable to eat. If he didn't get it over with soon, he wondered if he would starve to death first, or go mad from lack of sleep.

They had a free hour after lunch. Remus trudged up to Gryffindor tower behind his roommates, a knot in his belly. Once back in their dormitory, Peter hid behind a comic book, and James took out his Charms text. None of them had said a word to the others since his talk with Sirius beside the lake that morning.

_Now or never,_ thought Remus, heart pounding. He crossed the room to stand beside James's bed. "Er - "

James glanced up warily. "What?"

"I - "

Sirius sat up. "James, mate, I'm sorry," he said, shooting Remus a forbidding look. "About your nose. I overreacted."

James looked back and forth between the two of them, eyes narrowed, while Peter peeked over the top of his comic.

"Sorry until the next time you 'overreact', you mean?" He turned his eyes pointedly back to his textbook. "You're a sodding nutter, Black. Don't talk to me."

"He only did it because of me," Remus said quietly. He looked down at his hands, twisted together, feeling the weight of three intense gazes.

"Remus, don't," said Sirius. "It's my fault."

"It doesn't matter," Remus told him for the second time that day. And then he told them all of it.

As soon as he began to speak, Sirius was beside him, a hand gripping his shoulder, lending Remus the courage and support he needed to say the words. When he finished, silence settled over the room. Remus dared to glance up for a second to see shock on this roommates' faces, questions forming behind their eyes.

"Don't you look at him like that," warned Sirius, before either of them could speak. "If you give him trouble about it, I swear I'll break more than your nose next time."

"D'you believe him, then?" demanded James.

"Why would anyone lie about a thing like that?"

"You two could be having a laugh."

"I'll have a laugh at your face," growled Sirius, "after I - "

"It's not a joke," said Remus quietly, eyes still downcast. "Please - don't tell anyone."

Shrugging off Sirius's grip, he went back to his bed, pulling the curtains shut around him. He lay, staring up at the canopy, listening to the low, muffled voices of his roommates, and trying unsuccessfully to make his belly muscles unclench. When the time came for their afternoon class, Remus did not move, and the others did not look in on him. He closed his eyes and let out a breath as the door clicked shut behind them, and fell asleep wondering whether he would still have friends when he awoke.

It was dark when a rustling sound woke him and his bed curtains parted. Instinctively, he snatched his wand from the nightstand.

"_Lumos_."

"It's only me," whispered Sirius, sitting down on the bed.

Remus lowered the wand. "What d'you want?"

"You missed supper. I thought you might be hungry." He unfolded a napkin to reveal a bread roll, a slightly squashed meat pie, and a chocolate pastry.

Remus sat up, but did not reach for the food. "How are the others?"

Sirius hesitated. "James - he's not quite OK with things. Yet," he admitted. "But I think he will be. I don't think he'll tell anyone, at least, and I told him I would thump him if he asked you any stupid questions or tried to make you - prove anything."

"Thanks," Remus whispered. "You didn't have to do that."

Sirius frowned. "Of course I did. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are," said Remus. "What about Pete?"

"Turns out he's got an uncle who - they thought he was a girl when he was born. You know the one he named his Puffskein after? So I think he'll be all right."

"Oh," said Remus, startled. "I had no idea."

"Yeah." Sirius grinned. "So maybe you're not as weird as you thought."

Much of the tension Remus had been bottling up over the last several days drained away, and he realised how hungry he was. He smiled, reaching for the food. "Thank you, Sirius."

* * *

James was neither as understanding nor as immediately accepting of the truth as Sirius had been. Third year had ended and fourth year begun before he finally came around. Even after that, there were awkward moments from time to time, but he kept Remus's secret, and for that, Remus was grateful.

"We could help you find a spell to change you back," Peter offered. "I could ask Uncle Constantine."

"Thanks, but I don't think there is one," said Remus. "My parents have been looking for years, and Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore have been after a cure since I started school. If they haven't found an answer by now, either there isn't one, or - it's some Dark spell that would need Dark magic to reverse it. Maybe even Blood magic."

His friends shivered. They had learned a little about Blood magic in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Remus pushed away the thought of a small, unmarked grave and a set of Muggle parents who would never know what had happened to their child. Living with what had been done to him was bad enough without the guilt of imagining how it might have been accomplished.

"Dumbledore says there are Muggle medical treatments," he said, hoping to distract them.

Sirius looked sceptical. "If magic can't help, then what can Muggles do?"

Remus shrugged. "That's what my parents think, too. Mum doesn't trust Muggle doctors at all. But - I don't know. Maybe I can talk to one once I'm of age."

In the meantime, Remus continued his once-a-month Potions therapy with Madam Pomfrey. She was constantly adjusting the dosage to find the right balance as he grew older, but the potions always made him sick, and while they kept his breasts small and his hips relatively narrow, they could not stop the changes in his body altogether. While his friends began to shave, his cheeks remained smooth, his face rounded and androgynous, and he continued to ache and bleed every month. Madam Pomfrey even brought up the mortifying possibility of his becoming pregnant, which was not something Remus had ever considered. She gave him the recipe for a preventative potion, "just in case", which he hid in the bottom of his trunk, hoping that his friends would never find it.

His friendships, too, became strained as the four of them grew older. It was no one's fault, but his friends were boys - boys with naturally masculine bodies and the confidence which came from having their perception of themselves match what they saw in the mirror. Peter had some early anxiety regarding his height and weight, but that mostly vanished after he started seeing a pretty Slytherin girl.

Neither James nor Sirius had the slightest self-consciousness about their bodies, and sometimes came out of the showers and wandered around the dormitory in their pants, or in nothing at all. Remus envied them. He tried not to look, for fear of creating the wrong impression, but he could not help admiring especially Sirius's masculine grace and comfort with his body.

Remus never considered that his feelings about his friend might stem from anything other than his own body issues, until one day in fifth year when he rounded a corner to see Sirius kissing Dorian Gaveston. Remus froze. Of course Sirius had told him he was queer, but that had been years ago, and he had never mentioned it since, nor mentioned fancying anyone in particular. Remus had half forgotten about it. Quietly, he backed away around the corner and out of sight of the oblivious pair, his mind reeling.

For a moment, Remus did not understand why he felt like crying. Then realisation hit him like a punch in the gut. The longing he felt when he looked at his friend had nothing to do with envy. His desire to know what it would feel like to touch Sirius's body was the same desire that caused James to obsess over Lily Evans and Peter to agonise about Madeleine Yaxley. It was the same desire that made Sirius want to snog handsome boys in deserted corridors. Remus shook his head, denying everything, and ran.

He made himself stop looking at Sirius after that. Anytime the other boy was not speaking directly to him, Remus did his best to keep his eyes averted, and he tried not to looked anywhere except at his friend's face. But now that he knew what his feelings meant, he could not seem to stop himself. Several times a day, he would catch himself staring, remembering what Sirius had looked like in Gaveston's arms, and imagining how it would feel to kiss him.

Underneath all this confused longing was the worry that his attraction to a boy meant that Remus was really a girl after all. If Sirius ever found out that his freakish friend fancied him, he would surely be disgusted. He might never speak to Remus again. The best Remus could hope for was Sirius's pity, and he didn't want that either.

His feelings would not stay hidden. His friends seemed oblivious, but it was not long before Severus Snape noticed the way he looked at Sirius. The Slytherin boy was no fool, and he was overjoyed to have something so scandalous to hold over one of his least-favourite classmates.

"Looks like someone has a little crush," Snape leered, cornering Remus between stacks in the library.

"Oh?" said Remus, pretending disinterest as he stared resolutely at the spines of the books, but his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

"Better give it up," Snape leaned close to whisper in his ear. "People like Black can have anyone they want. Even if he were bent, he'd never look twice at the likes of you."

Remus clenched his teeth and did not reply. Snape chuckled and walked away, robes billowing. When he had gone, Remus closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the well-worn wood of the shelf, feeling desolate. Snape was more right that he knew. Maybe if Remus were a normal boy, he might have found the courage to confess his feelings to his friend, but Sirius would never want someone like him. No one would. Someday, his friends would find people who would love them and make them happy, but deep in his heart, Remus knew that he would always be alone and unloved.

That was not the last time Snape tormented Remus with his secret knowledge. Every few days, the Slytherin found a moment for a cutting word, or a whispered threat to spread Remus's secret heartache all over the school. Someday he would do it, Remus was certain, and the anxiety he had felt before telling his friends the truth returned to gnaw at him anew. This time, though, there was nothing he could do about it. No one he could tell.


	3. Chapter 3

If Remus had hoped that Snape might grow bored of torturing him, or forget what he knew over the summer holidays, that hope vanished as soon as they returned to Hogwarts for their sixth year. Remus had forgotten, though - forgotten how bad the anxiety could be, wondering whether each new day would be the one when Snape would finally decide to out him. It settled as a constant ache in his belly, making it difficult for him to eat or sleep. Remus was exhausted. His robes hung on him like a broom handle. His friends and Madam Pomfrey were worried about him, but he shook off their questions, telling them it was just the potions he was taking.

Snape's poisonous whisperings went on and on.

"You think they'll let you room with them once they find out, shirt-lifter?" he murmured one day under the noise of students moving between classes. "Or maybe they will. Maybe they'll put that girly mouth of yours to the only use it's good for."

Something snapped inside Remus. With a yell, he whirled, his fist connecting with the side of the surprised Slytherin's head. Snape went down with Remus on top of him. When he moved to draw his wand, Remus knocked it aside. It took all three of his friends to drag him off the other boy. Snape's nose was bloodied, and one of Remus's eyes was beginning to bruise and swell shut. Professor Slughorn, summoned by the commotion, gave them both a stern lecture, and assigned Remus a week's detention. But that did not bother him so much as the nasty grin Snape flashed him, or his parting words: "You're finished now, Lupin."

"What was all that about?" asked Peter.

"Dunno," Remus lied. "I'm not feeling well. I'll see you lads after class."

Without a backwards glance, he hurried off in the direction of Gryffindor tower. His friends did not follow, much to his relief and disappointment. It might have been sweet to have one more afternoon together, just the four of them, before Snape ruined everything, but he knew his friends would keep asking why he had hit the Slytherin, and he had no satisfactory answer.

Remus lay on his bed, thinking. Perhaps there was some way to stop Snape from telling the others what he knew. Remus could make a bargain with him. But Remus had nothing Snape wanted. He imagined the Slytherin's eyes lit with cruel delight, and his friends' expressions of confusion, disbelief, shock, horror. Snape would want the satisfaction of telling Sirius, James, and Peter the news himself - Remus knew that much - so he couldn't very well spread rumours around the school; there was too much risk that someone else might steal the march on him and tell the Gryffindor boys.

Remus turned over, clutching his pillow in a hard hug and willing his tightly-clenched belly muscles to relax.

It would only postpone the inevitable, but if he could keep his friends away from Snape, his secret would remain safe. And maybe - maybe there was a small chance he could find the courage to tell Sirius the truth. Or he could sneak out of the castle by night and run away home. It was a coward's option, but between that and becoming the target of hatred and disgust for all of Hogwarts, it also sounded like a relief.

The others returned from class full of concern and curiosity.

"That eye looks bad," said Sirius, sitting down on Remus's bed. He reached out a hand as if to touch the bruise, but then thought better of it and drew back. "D'you want us to go see if Pomfrey's got something for it?"

"No, it's fine."

"I have some of that Bruise Balm for Quidditch," volunteered James.

Remus accepted his offer, gingerly dabbing the yellow cream around his swollen eye.

"What did Snape say to you?" asked Peter, perched on Remus's trunk.

Remus shook his head. "It was nothing. I just - had a bad day."

Sirius snorted his disbelief. "I've never seen you go at someone like that, Lupin. Are you going to tell us, or do I have to go beat it out of Snivellus myself?"

"No!" Remus said too quickly. "No, just - leave him be, all right? I overreacted. He - he said I looked girly."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the dormitory. Remus's cheeks burned. He hated admitting even that much, but the others knew it was a sensitive subject for him. Maybe now they would drop it.

That hope lasted less than a minute.

"That tosser needs to be taught a lesson," Sirius declared, getting to his feet. "Who's with me?"

"I'm in," said James immediately as Peter perked up.

"Don't," Remus pleaded.

Sirius shot him a grin which, under normal circumstances, would have made Remus's heart flutter. "You don't have to do everything for yourself, mate. That's what friends are for."

"I'll just ignore him next time," said Remus desperately. "Let's - let's play Exploding Snap or something."

"I'd rather play Exploding _Snape_," quipped James, and the other laughed.

They were halfway out the door when Remus jumped up to follow. He had to stop them - had to talk them out of it somehow. If they actually found Snape, he was done for. But once James and Sirius had set their minds to something, it was almost impossible to change them, so Remus followed, sweaty palms clenched, heart hammering.

"He'll be in the Potions classroom," said James. "I heard he's been tutoring people to make some extra dosh."

Sirius nodded. "We'll wait and catch him on his way up to supper."

"And do what?" asked Remus. He had to force the words out around the tightness in his chest.

"Nothing permanent," Sirius assured him. "Curl his hair. Hex him cross-eyed. Knot his shoelaces together. Something like that. Whatever it takes, so long as he remembers to leave you alone."

_Alone._ Remus would be that. If Snape opened his mouth -

"The Laryngitis curse!" said Remus desperately. "Or - or the Mouth-Sealing hex. Something to shut him up for a while."

"Good idea, mate," laughed James, giving him a friendly punch in the arm.

Peter nodded. "That would teach him to shoot his mouth off for sure!"

They quieted as they approached the Potions classroom, ducking into a shadowy alcove to wait. Peter stood lookout while James tiptoed to the door to make sure of their quarry.

"Could we just forget about this?" whispered Remus over the sound of his own pounding heart.

He expected Sirius to ignore or dismiss his complaint, but the other boy turned to him, grey eyes full of concern. "He shouldn't talk to you like that, Remus. It's not right."

Remus looked down. "He doesn't know."

Sirius touched his arm lightly, making Remus raise his eyes. "Even so. I don't like him treating you - " He broke off and shook his head, words failing.

He was standing very close, looking straight into Remus's eyes, hand still on his arm. Remus could hardly breathe. For a moment, he forgot why they were there - forgot everything except the boy in front of him. His eyes fixed on Sirius's mouth, so close. He could almost imagine -

And then James and Peter were there and everything else came rushing back in on him.

"He's there," said James. "It sounded like they were almost finished."

The four of them waited in silence. Remus kept stealing glances at Sirius and worrying. If they decided at the last minute not to use one of the Silencing hexes he had suggested, or if they didn't do it fast enough, there was still a chance that this would be the last companionable moment he would spend with his friends. Anxiety choked him.

There was a sound down the corridor, and an annoyed-looking second year exited the Potions classroom, fumbling her bag over her shoulder.

"Wait until she's gone," breathed James.

When the echo of the girl's footsteps had disappeared around a corner, James gave the signal for them to move. He went first, with Sirius close behind him. Remus trailed after, while Peter, who had been on the receiving end of many a hex from Snape, and preferred to keep as many obstacles between himself and the Slytherin as possible, brought up the rear. Remus held his breath as James eased the heavy door open.

If Snape had been facing away, or if he had not already had his wand in his hand, things might have gone differently. His black eyes snapped up, and almost before the hex was out of James and Sirius's mouths, he shouted, "_Protego_!"

The hexes made a _whooshing_ sound as they bounced off the Shield Charm. James, Sirius, and Snape eyed one another warily, wands at the ready, all waiting to see who would make the next move. Remus tried to draw his own wand unobtrusively, edging closer to Sirius.

Snape's shrewd eyes flickered between them. He knew from long experience that neither Remus nor Peter was likely to hex him. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a half-smile.

"I wouldn't turn my back on Lupin if I were you, Black," he sneered. "One of these days, he won't be able to resist the temptation."

"Shut it, Snape," said Remus, trying desperately to control the panic in his voice.

"It's you I wouldn't want to turn my back on, Snivellus," Sirius declared. "At least I have friends who've got my back."

"I don't think your back is the part Lupin is interested in," said Snape with a mocking grin.

Sirius's brows rose in dawning comprehension. The others hadn't got there yet, but any minute now, they would. Sirius's eyes flickered away from Snape's wand to find Remus's. Remus could read nothing in his expression, but realised too late that his own anguish showed clear on his face. He looked away quickly.

"What - ?" James was saying, bewildered.

"If Remus wanted my arse," Sirius interrupted loudly, "he'd have said something about it by now. We've been rooming together for over five years. If he was a bender, I'd know it."

"Would you?" Snape leered. "Maybe you're used to your friends giving you cow eyes, Black, but from where I'm standing, I don't think he'd mind so much if I - _Disrobilis_!"

Remus did not even hear the hex. When the tip of Snape's wand twitched, he instinctively threw himself sideways, shoving Sirius out of the path of the spell. It hit him full in the chest instead, and his clothes vanished.

There was a moment of shocked silence as four pairs of eyes fixed on his naked body. Snape gave a startled laugh. With a yell of outrage, Sirius threw himself at the Slytherin, and they went down grappling.

Remus stood frozen, unable to move or think. Then warm cloth settled over his shoulders. James was beside him, draping him in his own outer robes, saying his name, asking if he was all right. Without pausing to offer so much as a word of thanks, Remus clutched the borrowed garment around himself and fled.

He did not stop running until he reached the relative safety of their dormitory bathroom. Falling to his knees before the toilet, he retched up the little he had eaten that day, clinging to the bowl for long moments as he shook with reaction.

Snape had seen. He would tell everyone. Remus imagined them all staring, whispering behind their hands, calling him "freak" and making him the butt of every joke. Now that his friends had seen - now that Sirius knew - they would join in the mockery, too. They wouldn't stick by him once the whole school had turned against him.

It was ten times worse than if they had only hated him for being queer. He imagined being forced to move into the girls' dormitory, humiliated, or even being sent home in disgrace. He would be shunned, cast out of Wizarding society, unable even to maintain the pretense of a normal life. He was finished.

It was all so unfair. All he wanted was to be left alone - to be _normal_. Why should it matter to anyone what he had between his legs? But it did. It mattered to everyone. It even mattered to Remus himself, much as he hated to admit it. Now that they all knew, it wouldn't matter what Remus wanted or what fantasy of being male he constructed about his life; no one else would ever let him be that again. They would never let him forget that he didn't have the necessary parts to be a real boy.

"I'm real," he whispered to no one.

There were only two options left to him: he could knuckle under and be the girl-freak that the whole world thought he was, be hated, mocked, disrespected, rejected, or he could make it all stop for good.

Shakily, Remus pulled himself to his feet and stared at the pale face in the mirror, dark smudges under its eyes. He wouldn't miss it. Probably no one else would, either. His parents would be disappointed that the Death Eaters would get his grandfather's money, but there was no help for that now, and they would likely be relieved to be free of his awkward and expensive problems.

The razor blades that his friends used to shave sat beside the sink. Remus picked one up between trembling fingers and stared at it. It was a small thing, but it looked sharp. It would do the job. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The blade was icy cold against his skin, but the blood was warm.


	4. Chapter 4

His head was pounding and he felt weak and woozy. He knew if he opened his eyes, the room would start spinning, so he kept them firmly shut. The potions must have hit him harder than usual this month.

But that was wrong. After the potions, the ache was in his belly, not his head. It made no sense. Remus knew from the feel of the bed under him that he was in the hospital wing. He tried to move his hands, only to discover that both of them were being held tightly.

"Sirius?" he whispered. His tongue felt thick and wooly. He was so thirsty.

The grip on his hands tightened

"He's awake!"

"Remus?"

Familiar voices, but not his friends.

"Mum?" He risked opening his eyes. "Dad?"

"Remus, _why_ - ?"

"How could you - ?"

They both seemed terribly upset about something, but Remus could make no sense of their words. He closed his eyes again. Perhaps he was dreaming. He could think of no good reason why his parents would be at Hogwarts.

"Is he awake?" Another voice, clipped and professional. Madam Pomfrey.

"I-I think so," said his mother.

"Good. Please stand aside, Mr and Mrs Lupin. Remus will feel much better once he's had a dose of this."

His parents' hands let go reluctantly, and a strong arm around his shoulders raised him halfway into a sitting position. Even that much movement made him feel sick and dizzy, but he obediently swallowed the potion pressed to his lips. It was warm and thick, with a metallic tang to it. Remus's head began to clear as the matron eased him back onto the pillow.

"Better now?" she asked as his eyes blinked open.

He nodded.

"You've lost a lot of blood," she informed him. "You're very lucky that Potter and Pettigrew found you in time, and that Potter managed to keep his head."

"Blood?" He remembered blood. A lot of it. Smeared and dripping on the white tiles of the bathroom floor.

"You tried to kill yourself, Remus." His father's voice was strained. "Why?"

Remus glanced down in surprise and noticed the bandages on his wrists for the first time. He remembered the razor now, but what had come before that?

"Mr Lupin had a very upsetting experience yesterday," said a no-nonsense Scottish voice from the doorway. A moment later, Professor McGonagall was standing with the other adults beside his bed. "Let me assure you that Headmaster Dumbledore is dealing with the matter personally. He has spoken to Mr Snape - "

_Snape._ Remus shuddered as everything came rushing back to him. The sneer. The spell. The sudden chill. The laugh.

"I - " he said, interrupting McGonagall's explanation of the previous day's incident.

His mother was by his side at once. "What is it, Sweetheart? What do you need?"

"I want - " he licked his lips. "I want to go home. Please?"

"Of course, Love," his mother soothed, stroking his hair. "That's why we're here."

But he couldn't leave. Not right away, at least. Madam Pomfrey declared him unfit to travel, and said he would have to remain in the hospital wing for the rest of the day, taking several more doses of the blood-restorative draught. Professor McGonagall arranged rooms for his parents to rest in, but one or both of them remained by his bedside as he slept - or pretended to - all that day.

Once, when his mother disappeared to the loo, Remus asked after his friends.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "I've told them that you need your rest. You're too weak for rowdy visitors."

Remus nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his friends after everything that had happened. What must they think of him now? What must Sirius think?

When his mother returned, he pretended to sleep again. Later, he thought he heard Sirius's anxious voice outside the infirmary door, but that might have been a dream.

Daylight was fading from the high windows of the hospital wing by the time Madam Pomfrey pronounced him fit enough for the journey home. Dressing himself still proved exhausting, but at least he could stand on his own. The school house-elves had brought a few of his things down from the dormitory so that he did not have to make the long climb to Gryffindor tower.

Remus had hoped that he could sneak away while his friends were at supper, but Sirius was sitting on the stone bench just outside the doors to the hospital wing. He looked as if he hadn't slept, and he was wearing the same robes he had had on the day before.

"Remus!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "Remus, are you - ?"

But Remus kept his eyes down and did not stop or acknowledge the other boy. His father put an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards the great staircase leading down to the entrance hall. Sirius did not follow.

* * *

Most of his first two days at home were spent in bed, resting and regaining his strength. At least, that was the idea. Mostly, he wallowed in his own misery. His parents hovered over him, worried, but they did not try to talk to him immediately about what had happened, for which Remus was grateful.

It was all such a mess. Snape knew about him now, and Sirius knew how he felt, and all of them knew what a weakling and a coward he was.

Two owls arrived from Hogwarts on the third day. One carried a list of schoolwork which his professors expected him to complete. The other was in Sirius's carelessly elegant scrawl, and it seemed to confirm all of Remus's worst fears.

_Lupin, you utter Tosser! I cannot Believe you would try to Top yourself! I'd ask you what you were Thinking, but clearly you weren't. Not about your Friends. Not about your Family either, I guess. I hope you're Happy. Pete's been having Nightmares. You're Lucky that James knew that Tourniquet Charm from Quidditch. But did you even Thank him for that? No! Because you are a complete Arsehole. We would have done Anything for you. But I guess you didn't Care enough to even Talk to us. It's a Good Thing you're not here right now, or I'd punch you right in your stupid Face._

_- S_

That was it. It was over. Sirius hated him. He had lost the person whose good opinion mattered most to him in all the world. Remus stuffed the letter into the drawer of the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling, feeling numb.

* * *

Remus was lying on his bed reading a book when his father knocked on the door two days later.

"There's been another owl for you," Marcellus Lupin said.

The scroll was too small to be official Hogwarts business, which probably meant it was more bad news. Remus waited for his father to leave before opening it.

Marcellus hesitated at the foot of the bed. "I think it's past time we talked about some things," he told Remus. "Will you join me and your mother in the sitting room in a few minutes?"

Remus nodded. He had known that this was coming.

His father went out, and Remus's eyes reluctantly returned to the small parchment. Hands trembling, he unrolled it. It was from James.

_Remus,_

_When are you coming back? Sirius is driving me mad. He's been in a strop ever since you left. He keeps saying he wants to punch you, but the other night when I got up to go to the toilet, he was sleeping in your bed. I think he misses you. Dumbledore made Snivellus promise not to tell anyone, so you don't have to worry about that. It's weird here when it's just the three of us._

_See you soon, I hope._

_- James_

Remus rubbed a hand over his face, feeling tired. He wasn't at all sure he wanted to go back to school. James seemed friendly enough, and maybe he was right about Sirius, but if his recent experiences had taught him anything, it was that his secret would never be entirely safe, and he could be found out at any time. That fear and anxiety had already almost killed him once. Was trying again even worth it? He had good marks on his OWLs; did he really need his NEWTs?

Remus sighed and deposited the scroll on the nightstand, on top of the pile of untouched schoolwork. He would think about it after he talked with his parents. They would probably be too afraid to let him out of the house ever again, after what he had done, let alone agree to send him back to Hogwarts.

He got up and dressed himself in real clothes for the first time in a week. His shirtsleeves would not button around his bandaged wrists, so he removed the gauze. The scars were a vivid pink, but they were almost healed. Remus stared at them, feeling embarrassed. His parents must be so disappointed, he thought, and now they were waiting in the sitting room for an explanation for his behaviour, which he was not sure he could give. With a sigh, he pushed open his bedroom door.

They were sitting at either end of the sofa, the space between them clearly reserved for him. The strain of the last week showed on their faces. He sat, staring down at his hands, knowing he owed it to them to start.

Remus cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I know it was stupid and I've upset you. I wasn't thinking straight. It won't happen again."

A small hiccoughing sound from his mother surprised him, and as he raised his head to look at her, his father swore, grabbing him in a bear hug. Marcellus's arms were tight around him, and his mother was crying on his shoulder. The fear that had blocked every other emotion for so long crumbled. Hot tears poured down Remus's cheeks as sobs shook him.

It was long moments before any of them were able to begin getting their emotions under control. At last his father sat back, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. Sylvia Lupin sniffled and took out a handkerchief, which she gave to Remus before using it herself, then she gripped his hand tightly, as if she would never let go.

"We never knew you were so unhappy, Sweetheart." Her voice wobbled as she spoke. "Have we handled things badly? Is there something more we could be doing?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "But I haven't been unhappy. Not all the time, anyway. I'm just scared of people finding out."

"If they find out, they find out," said Marcellus. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. But even if that happens, you'll always have a safe place here with me and your mother."

Remus tried to smile at his father. "I know, Dad. But the inheritance - "

"Forget the inheritance," said Sylvia. "It's only money, Remus. It's nowhere near as important as your happiness. If it would be easier for you not to have to hide - "

Remus shook his head. "If it gets out, they'll never let me live it down. There aren't that many wizards in Britain; everyone would know. I'd have to live as a Muggle or move to another country to get away from it, and it won't be any easier for you, if people find out you're the parents of a freak."

"You're not a freak, Remus," said his father, resting a gentle hand on Remus's back. "You're my son, and I love you."

Remus closed his eyes and bit his lip, afraid he might start crying again. "And if you never find a cure?"

"Then you're still my son, and I still love you," Marcellus said steadily. "I know I haven't always been a perfect father. It's been hard, watching you struggle."

"We didn't know what to do, after it happened," Sylvia said quietly. "You were so young, you probably don't even remember. We were in shock, thinking we had lost our little boy, but we did our best to take care of the little girl we thought we had been given. We bought you new clothes. New toys. We even tried changing your name."

Remus stared at them. He had never known any of this.

His father gave him an apologetic half-smile. "But you were having none of it. You just carried on as always, playing with the same toys, demanding your old clothes, and refusing to answer to anything but 'Remus'. It didn't take long for us to see that you hadn't changed at all, and you were happiest being who you had always been. We only ever wanted you to be happy, Son."

"If keeping things quiet and carrying on as we have been is what you want," said his mother, squeezing his hand, "then that's what we'll do. But if there's anything you want to change, all you have to do is tell us."

Remus had never been so grateful to have the parents he had been blessed with as he was at that moment, but he was still a little afraid to ask for what he really wanted. "There's one thing - "

"Name it," said his father. "If it's possible, we'll move heaven and earth to see that it happens."

"Would you - would you stop looking for a cure? I don't think there is one, and you shouldn't be wasting your money."

His mother looked shocked. She was the sort of witch who believed that nothing was impossible, with magic. His father frowned thoughtfully.

"Instead," Remus pressed on, "could you maybe look into the Muggle treatments Dumbledore mentioned? If they have something that might help, I'd like to at least try it. I don't think it could be any worse than the potions I'm taking now."

It was his mother's turn to frown. "Muggle medicine?" she said sceptically. "I'm not sure that's wise."

Remus didn't like to push his parents when they had just been so wonderfully understanding, but he knew this might be his only chance. "You said you'd do anything," he reminded them quietly.

"We did," his father agreed. "If that's what you want, we'll look into it. Will you continue with your potions for now, once you're back at school?"

Remus hesitated. "I wasn't sure whether you would want me to go back," he said carefully.

"Not go back to school?" said his mother, shocked. "What about your NEWTs?"

"I have my OWLs."

His father gave him a narrow look. "Don't you want to go back to school, Remus?"

Remus shrugged, not meeting his parents' eyes.

"You know Dumbledore won't let those boys tell anyone," Sylvia reminded him.

"It's not that," he whispered.

"Are you worried about your friends?" asked Marcellus. "I know you've had two owls from them since you've been home. They must be worried about you."

Remus hung his head miserably, trying not to think about the letter Sirius had written. "It's embarrassing," he admitted. "They all saw me, and then I tried to top myself. What must they think of me now?"

"There's only one way to find out," his mother said. "If things are really as bad as all that, we can talk about other options over the Christmas holidays. But I think, and I'm sure your father agrees with me, that it would be best for you to at least give it a try."

Marcellus nodded. "It's not good for you to be alone, Remus. A boy of your age should have friends around him."

"All right," said Remus. "I'll go back." It was the least he could do for his family.

"Good." His father smiled. "I think this means you have some schoolwork to do before supper."


	5. Chapter 5

Remus's parents Floo'd back to Hogsmeade with him the following Sunday, and saw him as far as the gates to the school grounds. He told them he could manage the rest of the way alone. They hugged each other for a long time, and everyone was somewhat sniffly, though that might have been the misty autumn weather.

"You promise you'll write to us if things get difficult, instead of doing something rash?" demanded his mother, desperately searching his face.

"I promise, Mum." He kissed her cheek, then hugged her and his father one more time. "You're the best."

His father kissed the top of his head, then shooed him through the castle gates.

"Don't just write when you're desperate, Son," Marcellus called after him. "We want to hear from you every week."

Remus waved, then turned to face the castle and the friends he might or might not still have.

* * *

It took all Remus's courage to push open the door to the boys' dormitory and walk into his own room.

"You're back!" Peter bounced up from his bed, looking relieved.

James gave him an awkward version of his usual grin. "Hey, Remus."

Sirius glanced up from his Potions text, then quickly down again, the corners of his mouth tightening.

"Hi." Remus could think of no more to say than that, and no one else seemed prepared to make conversation.

He busied himself with putting away his things, and getting out his schoolwork to hand in the next day, before ducking into the bathroom for no better reason than wanting a little space from the silence of his roommates. That was a mistake. As soon as he looked at the tiled floor, he saw the blood dripping from his knuckles, and felt again the terror that had driven him to it. Remus felt dizzy, and leaned against the counter, eyes closed.

_It's all right,_ he told himself. _You're fine, Lupin. You're safe here._ The dormitory bathroom was one of the safest places in the school for him. It would be more than inconvenient if he was unable to use it.

Gradually, after a few deep breaths, the feeling subsided. He had been in this room thousands of time before. It was only the one time that was a problem. The more space he put between himself and the incident, the easier it would be. Remus opened his eyes. This time, the tiles stayed white.

"You OK, mate?" James asked, peering at him curiously when he reentered the dormitory.

"Fine," said Remus. He glanced over at Sirius, who kept his head down, looking unusually studious.

Remus went over to his own bed and got out one of his textbooks, not much caring which one it was, to give himself something to do to fill time until supper.

* * *

James was the soul of solicitude in the days that followed, checking in with Remus several times a day to make sure he was all right. Peter, who hated confrontation or unpleasantness of any kind, seemed content to pretend like nothing had happened. Sirius continued to give him the cold shoulder. When he spoke to the others, he was sarcastic and bad-tempered. One day, when Remus arrived back at the dormitory, he heard the sounds of raised voices coming from inside the room, but when he opened the door, the shouting broke off. James and Sirius spent the rest of the day scowling silently at one another. Remus hoped they would patch things up soon. The two of them were normally closer than brothers, and Remus hated the thought of them falling out over him.

Even though Sirius wasn't speaking to him, Remus couldn't help noticing that the other boy was never far away. If Remus was in the common room, so was Sirius. When Remus went to the weekly Prefects meeting, Sirius just happened to be passing by when it ended. Even when Remus went to study in the library, Sirius would show up within minutes, slouching over a book at another study table; an activity almost unknown to him in the past. Whenever someone came through the library door, Sirius would glance up sharply until he determined their identity, then went back to glowering over his book.

It made Remus sad to think that he had lost Sirius's friendship, but he didn't begrudge the other boy his discomfort. Not many people would be flattered to learn someone like Remus fancied them, he was sure. If Sirius viewed it as a gross breach of their bond, there was nothing Remus could do about it. He wasn't going to force his wayward feelings upon someone who was so clearly not interested. Maybe one day Sirius would forgive him, but until then, he would have to make do with James and Peter's friendship.

If Sirius had abandoned Remus, Severus Snape certainly had not. Dumbledore's orders kept him from spreading Remus's secret around the school, but they did not prevent him from needling Remus every chance he got. Hardly a day went by that Remus did not hear the words "ugly bint", "freak", "slut", or "whore" whispered at him in the corridors, or under the hubbub of the Great Hall.

"I can't imagine why those roommates of yours have kept quiet so long," he murmured one day when he caught Remus on his way to Arithmancy. "Unless you've been letting them take turns on your ugly cunt. Not that I can imagine anyone wanting to. Someone would have to be pretty desperate to go for a freak like you."

Remus walked faster, trying not to listen, repeating Arithmancy formulas under his breath.

"I hope you know how to brew a decent birth control potion, Lupin," Snape continued. "You'd be even more disgusting with a big belly. Have you got over Black yet? Or do you pretend that he fancies you when he takes his turn?"

"What was that, Snivellus?"

Remus and Snape's heads both jerked up to see Sirius lounging against the wall between them and the classroom.

Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer. "I wasn't hurting your girlfriend, Black. There's no law against me talking to her."

"There is now." Sirius pushed away from the wall, his wand clenched in his fist. "I don't ever want to hear you speak to Remus again. I'm fairly certain Dumbledore told you not to bother him."

"Just because I'm keeping that stupid secret doesn't mean I can't have a little fun." Snape's hand twitched towards his wand pocket.

Remus's heart was pounding. He felt sick. It was the Potions classroom all over again, and he was about to be stripped and humiliated a second time.

"Don't -" he pleaded through numb lips, a hand on Sirius's wrist, eyes rising to meet the stormy grey glare.

Sirius hesitated. "Remus -"

A snort came from Snape's direction. "You lovebirds sort yourselves out," he said. "You're not worth being late to class over." He disappeared down the corridor.

Remus's hand dropped away from Sirius's wrist. He was trembling. "I - I'm just - toilets - see you in class." He turned and hurried away in the opposite direction from the one Snape had taken.

Footsteps echoed behind him and he broke into a run. He was winded by the time he ducked into the boys' lavatory and slammed the cubicle door behind him. Sliding to the floor with his back against the door, Remus pressed his hands over his face, still shaking. Snape's words echoed inside his head, and he wasn't prepared to deal with them and Sirius at the same time.

The hinges of the lavatory door squeaked as someone entered the room.

"Remus?" Sirius called. "Are you in here?"

Remus tried to stay silent, hoping the other boy would leave, but the closed cubicle door gave him away.

There was a knock. "Remus?"

"Go away, Sirius," he said, hating how shaky his voice sounded. "I don't need you hovering over me like a - a mother badger or whatever it is you think you've been doing."

"Bollocks you don't," said the grumpy voice on the other side of the door. "Last time you went off on your own like that, you almost died. Are you going to come out here so I can see you're all right, or do I have to blast this door open?"

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, then got reluctantly to his feet and unlatched the door. "See?" he said, holding out his wrists. "All in one piece. Now will you go? You're late for class."

Sirius stared at the still-pink scars. "So are you."

"I'm not late;" said Remus, moving to the sink to splash cold water on his face, "I'm not going."

"Then neither am I."

Remus sighed and leaned back against the sink. Sirius wasn't going to let it go, and maybe he was right to want to have things out once and for all. Remus just wished he hadn't picked now. "Look, I'm sorry," he said, feeling a hundred years old. "I really am. I didn't mean to cause a big disruption in your life. I should have said something before. But it's really not a big deal. I'll get over it. I just - can't we be friends again? Pretend it never ..."

Sirius was staring at him, open-mouthed. "Not a big deal?" he said, quiet disbelief rising slowly to a crescendo of outrage. "_Not a big deal?_ Remus, you tried to fucking _kill yourself_. You almost _died_. And then you left, and I - we didn't know if you were ever coming back. Is that what friends do? They run away? They don't try to talk about things or ask for help? Because I don't want that kind of friendship. I want to fucking well help you if you need it, not sit around like a useless tosser while you bleed to death. Is Snape the problem? Because I'll kill him. I will. I'll go to Azkaban for it if I have to, but if it would make your life easier, I'd do it in a heartbeat. It's just - it's a big fucking deal to me, Remus. All right?" There were tears standing out on Sirius's cheeks. He did not seem to have noticed.

Remus lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean it like that. I know it was stupid, what I did. It won't happen again."

Sirius let out a breath and then moved to sit beside him on the marble sink. They were both quiet for a long moment.

"I was in Dumbledore's office," Sirius whispered. "With Snape. Dumbledore made him promise. And then - this silver bird flew in the window, and Pomfrey's voice came out of it, sounding really upset, saying Dumbledore was needed in the hospital wing. She didn't say - Dumbledore sent us off, and I went back to the room. There was blood everywhere -" his voice broke and he closed his eyes.

Remus resisted the urge to apologise again, but put a tentative hand on Sirius's shoulder.

"James and Pete weren't there. I didn't know what had happened. I ran down to the hospital wing, and they were there, outside the doors. I thought - Merlin, from the looks on their faces, I was sure you were dead." Sirius took a deep, shaky breath. "I waited. All night and the next day. I wanted to see you. I just wanted to know -" he sniffed heavily, finally looking up at him with anguished red eyes. "_Why_, Remus?"

Remus pressed his lips together, his hand sliding off Sirius's shoulder. "Everything was so complicated. Snape knew. I thought he'd tell everyone. And you all saw -" he shook his head. "I thought you would hate me. I thought everyone would. That I'd have to leave school. That I wouldn't be able to live in the Wizarding world at all, because no one would let me be myself, once they knew. And if I can't be me, then what else is there? I couldn't stand the thought of everyone thinking I was a freak or a - a _thing_ all the time."

"Did you think you couldn't talk to us?" Sirius asked. "Did you have to run away from us, too?"

Remus looked down, ashamed.

"Was it because of me?" Sirius's voice was gentle, hesitant now. "Was Snape right about - things? Were you afraid of what I would think?"

Any minute now, he was going to start shaking again. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't want it to get in the way of our friendship."

Sirius let out a breath he had been holding. "So it's true."

He looked down at his hands. "I'll get over it. You don't have to tell me you just want to be friends. I know you'd never go for someone like me."

"Is that what Snape's been telling you?" The edge of anger was back in Sirius's voice.

"It doesn't matter. I already know -"

"Remus -"

The sharp sound of his name made him look up, fearful. Sirius's eyes were fixed on his face with a belligerent intensity, but the hand on the back of Remus's neck was gentle. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in to touch his lips to Remus's numb, disbelieving ones.

"Wha - what are you doing?" asked Remus, jerking back.

"I'm kissing you."

"Why?"

"Because I want to. Don't you want me to?"

Remus nodded slightly. "But - I thought you only fancied boys?"

"That's right," said Sirius, leaning in to kiss him again.

This time, Remus let it happen.


	6. Chapter 6

Every time Remus looked up over the next few days, his eyes went straight to Sirius. Sirius would grin and sometimes wink, and Remus would blush and look down again. But apart from the few tentative kisses they had shared in the boys' lavatory during Arithmancy, and another one that tasted of toothpaste before bed the same night, Sirius did not try to kiss him again. Time was one factor. It was difficult to find a moment when James and Peter weren't nearby. However, as the days passed, Remus began to worry that he himself was the problem. Whenever Sirius got too close, Remus turned into a blushing, stammering mess. It was embarrassing.

His own over-sized self-doubt told him Sirius was probably having second thoughts. Involvement with someone like Remus was rife with complications, and Sirius had a habit of jumping into situations feet-first, without thinking. Or maybe, whispered the insidious voice in the back of Remus's mind, Sirius didn't really fancy him at all, and the whole exercise was only a misguided attempt on Sirius's part to give Remus what he wanted, to keep him from leaving school or harming himself again. When those thoughts overwhelmed him, Remus had to go away and be by himself for a while.

His doubts grew as his monthly Potions appointment with Madam Pomfrey approached. The only time he caught Sirius's eye that morning, in Transfiguration, Sirius was frowning, puzzled, as if he were trying to work something out. _He fucked up and he knows it,_ Remus thought glumly. _Now he's just looking for a way to tell me._ He couldn't bear the thought of Sirius's apologies. Not today.

After class, Remus muttered that he was going to the toilets, and slunk away from his roommates. He hurried to the hospital wing, feeling something like relief. At least here he did not have to deal with solicitous friends, only with his own body. That much, he could manage.

He changed into his pyjamas and sat down on the bed while Madam Pomfrey measured out the correct dosage of each of the five potions. Usually, Remus dreaded this, but today he had too much on his mind. Sirius's puzzled, frowning face swam to the surface of his thoughts as Remus tilted his head back and swallowed the first sour potion. _He wouldn't look at me that way if I were a real boy,_ he thought bitterly. He wondered if the potions were even worth it. Remus could take them his whole life and they would never transform him into what Sirius wanted.

Afterwards, he lay on the bed, curled in a tight ball, his misery divided between the fist squeezing and tearing at his guts and the bittersweet memory of Sirius's lips on his for a brief moment that would never happen again. He turned his face and let the tears soak into the stiff, starchy pillowcase.

It was dark when he woke. Madam Pomfrey was standing beside his bed, her face a pale glow in the wandlight.

"How are you feeling, Mr Lupin?" she asked, not unkindly.

"Mmmph." The worst of the pain had receded, but a dull ache still throbbed in his lower belly, and the area between his legs was unpleasantly squashy.

"If you wish, you may stay here tonight, but if you want to go back to your own bed, the school is at supper now."

Remus sat up, knuckling the crusty feeling out of his eyes. "I'll go," he grimaced. "Thank you, Ma'am."

She hesitated. "Mr Black was here earlier. I told him you were resting."

Sickness squirmed in Remus's guts. Couldn't Sirius have waited until Remus was feeling more himself before telling him it had all been a mistake? Perhaps he should stay in the school infirmary tonight.

But that would only be postponing the inevitable, and Remus was too much a Gryffindor to do that. Better to get it over with.

In the hospital wing toilets, he cleaned himself up, succumbing to a brief bout of nausea that left him weak and shaky, with the sour taste of the potions back in his mouth. Remus rinsed his mouth and pulled on his robes over his pyjamas, avoiding the eyes of the pale, sickly face in the mirror. He had no wish to remind himself how unappealing he looked right now, with dark smudges of exhaustion hollowing his eyes, and his hair sticking up in all directions from sleep. The Hogwarts ghosts looked healthier than Remus did on Potions days.

Sirius was waiting for him on the bench outside the hospital wing door. Remus was only half surprised. His friend jumped up when he saw him, and Remus looked away.

"You should go to supper."

"I'm OK," said Sirius. "Are you?"

"Yeah, fine." Remus began to walk in the direction of the stairway to Gryffindor tower.

"You look like death," Sirius said, following him.

"Thanks. I'm tired, Sirius. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see you."

Remus stopped and turned to face his friend. "If you're going to tell me it was a mistake, just do it."

"A mistake?" Sirius looked surprised. "You think I don't want -?"

Remus shrugged. "It's been a week. If you wanted to kiss me again, you would have by now."

Sirius scowled, then grabbed his hand and dragged him into an empty classroom.

"You want to know why I haven't kissed you again?" he demanded. "Because every time I get near you, you freak out. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so I backed off. I figured you needed some time to get used to things. Remus, I've been waiting for _you_ to kiss _me_."

Remus stared at him, stunned. "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes. Will you?"

"What, now?"

"If you want to."

"While I look 'like death'?"

Sirius smiled sheepishly. "I don't mind. I want to kiss you all the time, Remus. Even now. Especially now, because you look so sad and tired and confused, and maybe if I kiss you, it will help with that. Maybe you'll realise that you're worth kissing, even when you're not at your best."

Even though he was blushing, Sirius's eyes did not leave Remus's. Remus continued to stare at him, speechless, as Sirius held out his hands. Tentatively, Remus took them, stepping forwards. Another step, and he was close enough to notice the nervous rise and fall of Sirius's chest.

"Please?" whispered Sirius, squeezing his hands tighter.

Remus tilted his face up, and his lips brushed the other boy's. Sirius sighed, eyes closed, but did not move. Remus did it again, pressing their mouths together more firmly this time. Of its own accord, the tip of his tongue flicked out to taste Sirius's full lower lip, and then Sirius's mouth was moving against his, lips parting, sending delicious, terrified thrills down Remus's spine. For a moment, he forgot the discomfort of his body, lost in the warm welcome of Sirius's kiss.

"Better?" asked Sirius a moment later, as they stood, eyes closed, foreheads pressed together.

"Much," sighed Remus. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Sirius said firmly, kissing his nose. "Do you need me to make it official?"

"Official?" Remus asked, confused.

Sirius grinned. "Remus Lupin, will you be my boyfriend?"

Remus couldn't prevent a surprised giggle from escaping his lips. "Yes," he said. "Yes, if you want me to be."

"Good." Sirius pulled him close in a bear hug, then kissed him again, this time on the mouth.

By the time he let go, Remus was breathless and giddy. He had to sit down for a moment on one of the classroom's desks. Sirius sat beside him, taking his hand once more.

"I was worried," Remus admitted. "I thought maybe you thought of me as a girl."

Sirius's brow furrowed. "You're not a girl, Remus. I've never thought of you as one."

Remus gave him a grateful smile. "I thought maybe I was one, when I realised I fancied you."

"Why?" asked Sirius. "I fancy boys, and that doesn't make me a girl."

"Well, but you're normal."

"I'm a gay wizard," Sirius snorted. "Most people wouldn't consider that very normal."

"I suppose, not," Remus conceded, looking down. "But you're normal compared to me."

Sirius's free hand came up to brush his cheek. "Everybody is weird and different in some way, Remus," he said softly. "It doesn't make you less of a person."

For a moment, Remus was worried he might cry. Sirius had always been a good friend, but Remus had never imagined him like this, being so open and understanding, and saying all the right things. He wondered if he was dreaming.

"I thought you wouldn't want me," Remus confessed, still unable to meet Sirius's eyes. "Because I'm different."

"You mean because you don't have a cock?" Sirius asked. He hesitated for a moment. "I thought about that. While you were - away. It doesn't matter. The reason I like blokes isn't because they have cocks; it's because they're blokes. I like snogging them even when it never goes further than that. I like snogging you, even if we never -" he broke off.

They were both blushing now.

Remus cleared his throat, moving away from one uncomfortable subject and towards another. "But I don't act like blokes are meant to. I like to read. I write poetry. I don't care about Quidditch."

"You write poetry?" asked Sirius. "Can I -?"

"_No_," said Remus, flushing more furiously than ever and thinking about the incriminating verses hidden at the bottom of his trunk, the hours spent searching for words that rhymed with _Sirius_, and synonyms for _grey_ and _beautiful_.

"OK." Sirius was smiling now. "Is that all you're worried about? Some blokes like books. Some blokes don't follow Quidditch. It's not that unusual. It might make you a stuffy professor sometimes, but it certainly doesn't make you a girl."

"But I'm not good looking," Remus burst out. "I hardly look like a bloke at all. Why would you fancy me? I don't look like Dorian Gaveston."

Sirius's smile vanished, replaced by a confused frown. "What? Why do Gaveston's looks matter?"

Remus bit his lip. "I saw you snogging him," he admitted.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Gaveston's a tosser. He was all right to get off with once or twice, but I was over him in about a week."

"But - he's really good looking."

"So?"

"You're really good looking, too."

"Am I?" Sirius grinned.

Remus sighed. "I just meant - you can have anyone you want. I understand why you'd go for someone who looks like him. But why would you ever be interested in someone like me?"

Sirius shook his head. "Because you're _Remus_. You're not just some pretty, brainless tosser. You're kind and smart and thoughtful and fun to be around. Nice to kiss, too," he added, catching Remus's eye with a smile and a wink. "Anyway, I like your face. So stop thinking you're some kind of hideous troll. You're not. You're a nice-looking bloke, Remus."

Remus was unconvinced. He pulled his robes tighter around himself, shivering. The snakes in his belly turned over, reminding him that they weren't finished with him yet today.

"Speaking of brainless tossers," Sirius said, getting up. "I'm sorry, Remus. I didn't mean to make you sit around in a drafty classroom when you're not well. Let's get you upstairs."

It wasn't safe to hold hands in the corridors, even with most of the school down at supper, and Sirius didn't try, although he did walk very close to Remus, all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was quiet when they came through the portrait hole, and Sirius slid an arm around Remus's waist as they turned towards the stairs to the dormitory. Sirius made tea while Remus shrugged out of his robes, kicked off his shoes, and climbed wearily onto his bed.

"I do mean it," he said quietly, when he handed the steaming mug to Remus. "All of it."

Remus looked down and sipped his tea. "I know," he whispered. "It's just - when you hate who you are as much as I do, it's hard to accept that other people might not feel the same way."

A hand was there, taking the mug away from him, while another cupped his cheek, forcing Remus to look up into black-lashed grey eyes. The pain he saw there surprised him.

"I could never hate who you are, Remus. You're too important to me."

There was nothing playful in the kiss Sirius pressed to Remus's mouth. His arms wrapped tightly around Remus's shoulders as if he would never let go.

"I don't want to lose you again," Sirius murmured, voice rough-edged with emotion. "I don't think I could bear it."


	7. Chapter 7

It was a beautiful late autumn day, and the sixth year Gryffindor boys were enjoying a picnic lunch atop the Astronomy tower, courtesy of the Hogwarts kitchen house-elves. As usual, Remus and Sirius kept a careful distance between them, and glanced at one another no more than seemed friendly.

Remus was just thanking Sirius for the slice of treacle tart he had passed him, when James burst out, "Oh, will you two give it up already!"

"Give what up, mate?" Sirius asked, all innocence, as Remus froze.

James rolled his eyes. "We know, all right? You and Remus are a thing now."

Fear burrowed into Remus's belly, but Sirius gave James a belligerent scowl, shifting his position slightly to put himself between Remus and the others. "So what if we are?"

Remus cast Peter a nervous glance, which he returned with a lopsided smile. They waited to see how things would play out between the two best friends.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" asked James. "You should have seen the way he was acting while you were away," he told Remus. "And then when he told me he was queer -"

"You told him?" Remus glanced at Sirius, surprised.

"Before you came back," said Sirius apologetically. "It didn't seem right anymore, keeping quiet about it after everything that you went through."

"I'm not stupid," interrupted James. "And nor is Pete. He saw you snogging the other day."

Remus gave Peter another surprised look, while Sirius narrowed his eyes at the blond boy.

"It's all right," said Peter with a nervous glance at Sirius. "I don't mind. I think it's sweet, the two of you getting together."

James snorted. "'Sweet' isn't necessarily the word I'd choose."

"So sorry if me snogging my _boyfriend_ makes you uncomfortable, Potter," said Sirius, not sounding sorry at all. "You never had any problem snogging Hathersage in front of us."

"That's different," said James.

"Is it, though?" asked Peter.

James looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. No, Pete's right; it's not. It's not fair that I can snog a girl or hold hands with her where people can see us, and no one makes a fuss, but you have to hide and keep things secret."

"A lot of things aren't fair," Remus said quietly, looking down.

Sirius moved in to put a protective arm around his shoulders. "Anyway, what of it?"

James sighed. "I just meant to say that you don't have to hide it from us, all right? I mean, I don't fancy watching my two best mates snog each other, but when it's just the four of us, you don't have to pretend nothing's going on."

Peter nodded vigorous agreement. "Tell them about Tuesdays and Saturdays," he prompted.

James rolled his eyes again. "Tuesday afternoons and Saturday mornings are Gryffindor Quidditch practice, yeah? Well, Pete's going to make himself scarce then, too, so you'll have the room all to yourselves for a few hours a week."

A slow smile spread across Sirius's face as Remus stared at James in disbelief.

"You really don't mind?" Remus asked.

James gave him a weak approximation of his usual grin. "I don't know if I mind or not, but if my friends are happy, that's the important thing, right?"

The tension in his belly eased, and Remus was able at last to offer his friends a grateful smile. "Thanks. That's - thanks."

Peter took up the flask of pumpkin juice and refilled their goblets. "A toast," he said, raising his own. "To friendship and snogging."

"Friendship and snogging." The four of them clinked their goblets together and drank.

"But if you're planning to do more than just snog when we're around," said James as they banished empty dishes and napkins back to the kitchens, "for Merlin's sake, remember your Silencing charms."

* * *

At first, Remus felt self-conscious kissing Sirius when their friends were nearby, but Sirius felt no such compunction. He took great joy in giving Remus a "good morning" kiss each day, and when the four of them were in the dormitory together, he was rarely more than an arm's length from him, and as often as not, held Remus's hand or snuggled close against his side. James rolled his eyes at them a lot during the first few days, while Peter would shoot glances at them, grin foolishly, and look away.

On Saturday morning, when James got up from breakfast to head down to the Quidditch pitch, he muttered, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Or ... not," and blushed, hurrying away.

Peter gave them a surprisingly bawdy wink and a jaunty wave as they left the Great Hall. Butterflies flapped wildly in Remus's belly. The thought of an uninterrupted stretch of private time with Sirius had him in nervous jitters. He didn't say anything as they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower, and he was too preoccupied to notice that Sirius was uncharacteristically quiet as well.

"So," he said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the dormitory, "what do you want to - er?"

"Dunno," said Sirius, ear pinkening. "I thought maybe I'd see how long I could snog you before my mouth gets tired. If you want to."

Remus smiled. A few of the more turbulent butterflies settled down. "That sounds like fun."

The only really comfortable place in the room to sit was on the beds. Sirius brought his own pillows over to Remus's bed and they piled them up against the headboard, leaning back against them and kicking their shoes off onto the floor. For a moment, they looked at one another, Sirius biting his lip to hide a smile as he took Remus's hands in his.

Remus loved that smile. That nose with the three small freckles across the bridge. That pointed chin. Those beautiful grey eyes, fringed with long black lashes. He couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve this lovely boy's affection, but he realised in that moment how ridiculous it was to have Sirius here, all to himself, looking at Remus like that, and not kiss him.

He leaned forwards, lips parted, and pressed his mouth against Sirius's. Sirius responded eagerly, their teeth clicking together, and then it was all playfully nibbling lips and teasing tongues. Their arms went around one another, and their feet tangled together, and they gradually snuggled farther and farther down on the bed, until they were lying face-to-face.

It was wonderful, but Remus held back, keeping a handbreadth of space between their torsos. He was not ready yet to have Sirius think about his body while they did this. It was better, for now, to just enjoy the kissing and the light touches. Sirius did not push for more contact, but when Remus bit his lower lip, he moaned softly, sending a delicious shiver through Remus's core. They broke apart for a moment, panting slightly.

"Is your mouth tired yet?" Remus asked.

Sirius grinned, lips red and puffy. "Not even close," he said, diving back in to kiss Remus some more.

Remus was just thinking how warm it was in the room and wishing that he had taken off his outer robes before they started, when there was a sharp knock on the door. James swept in without waiting for a reply, Peter trailing behind him.

Sirius sat up, hair sticking out at odd angles. "What are you doing back already?" he demanded.

"It's almost lunch time, mate," frowned James. "Don't tell me you've been at it for three hours?"

Remus glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand in surprise. The hands pointed at a quarter past noon. "Sorry," he said. "I guess we lost track of the time." He wondered if he looked as flushed and disheveled as Sirius did.

Peter was grinning as he returned his schoolbooks to his trunk.

"Oh, can it, Pete," growled James. "Honestly, it's like he's happier than you two are about all this." He waved a hand at the rumpled bedcovers and tumbled stack of pillows.

"I can't help it," said Peter, a touch defiantly. "I think it's romantic, two people starting out best mates and then falling for one another."

Sirius flashed Peter a grin. "It is. James is just jealous because he can't get Evans up here."

James made a face. "I'm not jealous and she'll come around. One of these days. Are you coming to lunch or not?"

* * *

Tuesday seemed to take forever to arrive, with only a handful of quick kisses to tide them over in between. It was nearly impossible for Remus to concentrate in Double Transfiguration that afternoon. He kept catching Sirius's eye and having to look away again quickly, fumbling his wand. His heart was beating faster than usual, and his palms were damp, but he wasn't nervous this time; he was impatient to get Sirius alone and snog him breathless again - to see him all mussed and rumpled and happy, on Remus's bed.

James gave them a disgruntled look as they hurried past him on the way out of the classroom. Irrepressible giggles bubbled between their lips as they chased one another up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. As soon as the dormitory door had closed behind them, Remus shrugged out of his robes and kicked off his shoes.

Sirius laughed, following suit. "Why, Mr Lupin, if I didn't know any better, I might think you were in a hurry to get me to bed."

"Come here," grinned Remus, holding out a hand.

Sirius took it and Remus pulled him close, collapsing against the pillows as their lips met. Remus's had curled around the back of Sirius's neck, fingers buried in his hair while Sirius's hand splayed across Remus's back, their other hands clasped between them as they lay, facing one another. It was a moment before they could stop giggling enough to kiss properly.

Remus was glad he had discarded his robes. It seemed very warm in the room today. The collar of his shirt hugged his neck damply, and he let go of Sirius long enough to tug the top button free. Sirius watched him, a half-smile on his lips, one eyebrow raised.

"It's warm," said Remus, as even more heat rose to his cheeks.

"It is," Sirius agreed. And then he was unbuttoning and shrugging out of his white school shirt, leaving him in the thin white cotton of his vest. "Oh, that's better," he said. "Shall we continue?"

Remus nodded, dragging his eyes away from Sirius's chest.

They returned to snogging, but now Remus, with his hand pressed to Sirius's back, could feel the damp heat of his skin against his palm. It was exciting. Experimentally, he abandoned Sirius's lips for the moment to nuzzle his neck, just below his ear. Sirius was just as warm there, skin slightly sticky with sweat. Remus put out his tongue to taste him. Sirius shivered and made a soft sound that delighted Remus. He did it again. This time, Sirius whispered his name. He was breathing heavily. Remus himself felt pleasantly warm all over, especially once Sirius's lips brushed his throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there. The hand on Remus's back slid down his side to cup his ribs.

Remus pulled back. "Don't -" he gasped, hands clasped protectively over his chest.

Sirius looked guilty. "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to - I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But I do want to touch you, Remus."

Remus looked away. "You can. I - I want you to. Just not here -" he waved a hand over his chest "- or here -" he made a helpless flapping gesture between his legs.

"That's fine," said Sirius, taking his hand and drawing him close once more. "I promise I won't unless you ask me to. All right?"

Biting his lip, Remus nodded. "I just don't want you to have to think about - things. Not when we're -"

"Are you worried I'll get turned off by your body?" Sirius asked. "Because that's not going to happen."

"You just don't seem like you're in a hurry to - do things," Remus whispered, lowering his eyes.

Sirius wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close enough to tuck his head into the crook of Sirius's neck. Remus relaxed in the circle of his arms.

"If I'm not in a hurry, it's because I don't want to rush you before you're ready," Sirius said. "I know this is new for you. It's pretty new for me, too."

Remus stiffened and Sirius's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Not because of you," Sirius explained. "I haven't done that much with anyone."

"You haven't?" Remus asked, surprised.

"A couple of blokes have had their hands down my pants, but it never went past that."

"I'm not sure I needed to know that," said Remus. Then, "Who?"

"Jealous?" There was a hint of a smile in Sirius's voice.

"Should I be?"

Sirius let Remus go so that he could look into his eyes. "They were tossers, Remus. I was tired of them within a couple of weeks. They weren't you, and it wasn't like this." He kissed Remus softly, right between the eyes. "I never did that with anyone else."

Remus smiled reluctantly, and leaned in to kiss Sirius in the same spot. "Me, either. You're the first person I've ever kissed."

A funny, soppy look spread across Sirius's face. "I guess I knew that. I never really thought about it."

"I'd like to do it some more, if you don't mind." Remus said.

"I would mind a lot more if you didn't want to," Sirius told him. "I just wanted to make sure you don't think you're the only one who's nervous here."

Sirius's hand returned to stroking Remus's back, and for a while, no more was said. As Remus relaxed, he let his hands tentatively begin to explore Sirius's body. One caressed his neck, then slid down over the curve of his shoulder, and followed the groove of his spine until his fingers reached the hem of Sirius's vest, where they lightly brushed the exposed strip of his lower back. Remus's fingers spread out, sliding across the sweat-slick skin under the thin fabric. His other hand rose between them to curve against Sirius's chest and feel the thunder of his heart.

"Remus," Sirius whispered after they had kissed a while longer.

"Hmmm?" Remus loved the way his name sounded when Sirius said it like that. It sent pleasant shivers shooting through his belly. He nuzzled Sirius's throat, hoping to hear him say it again.

"I - um - maybe we should stop."

"Why?" asked Remus, surprised.

"Because, um."

Sirius pushed his hips forwards against Remus's thigh, and Remus felt the unmistakeable hardness there. He stilled, heart hammering against his ribs. "Oh."

"Sorry," mumbled Sirius. "It's just - I'm really close. I didn't want to surprise you."

Remus glanced down nervously at the shape in his boyfriend's trousers. "That - that happened because we were kissing?"

Sirius nodded. "It happens almost every time we kiss."

Remus swallowed heavily. He could not take his eyes away, but the question he wanted to ask was frozen on his tongue.

Sirius seemed to hear it anyway. "You can touch me if you want to, Remus. You don't have to." His voice trembled.

So did Remus's hand as it slipped out from under the hem of Sirius's vest to hover uncertainly between them. Both of them were holding their breath, but under his other hand, Sirius's heart was pounding harder than ever.

By the time James and Peter returned, Sirius was in the bathroom and Remus lay with one arm crooked behind his head, staring dreamily up at the canopy over his bed, fingers closed tight around the memory of hot skin sliding against his palm and the sobbing sound of Sirius crying out his name.


	8. Chapter 8

Tuesdays and Saturdays were agony to wait for, and too soon over. There was not a moment - not an activity that Remus participated in - when he would not rather have been touching and kissing and being alone with Sirius. He could not get enough of the other boy. In surprisingly little time, Remus got over his awkwardness at kissing Sirius in front of their roommates, and sometimes only a pointed throat-clearing from James or a nervous "er -" from Peter reminded them that they were being anti-social.

Twice now, Remus had been unwilling to wait for their next "date", slipping between Sirius's bed-curtains under cover of darkness, and into his boyfriend's surprised and delighted arms. Their sleep suffered on those nights, but it was worth it to Remus because it meant another chance to hold Sirius, thick and hard in his hand, and hear the desperate sounds he made as he went to pieces.

Daytime was better, though. Much as he loved touching Sirius's cock - feeling the shapes of him, the slickness, the glide of his foreskin - being able to look at Sirius while he touched him was a matchless pleasure. When Saturday came and Sirius shed his robes and shirt with a grin, Remus did not let him stop there. He urged his vest over his head and tugged at his belt, and in moments, he was drinking in the sight of Sirius, spread out before him, a smile curving his lips, stroking himself with one loose fist. Sirius. Naked. In his bed. Looking at him like that. Surely Remus must be dreaming.

"Are you going to take off those robes and come join me?" Sirius asked. "Or are you just planning to watch?"

Remus's eyes never left they other boy's body as he shrugged out of his robes and pulled open the top button of his shirt. He hesitated a moment, then his hands went to his belt. His trousers puddled on the floor and Remus stepped out of them, climbing onto the bed in his pants and long-tailed school shirt. Sirius's grin widened as he rose up on one elbow for a kiss.

While his mouth was occupied with Sirius's, Remus let his hands wander. Sirius's chest was smooth and hairless, the delicate arch of each rib traceable beneath the thin web of muscle. His skin was a shade or two darker than Remus's own, and broke out in gooseflesh when Remus brushed his thumb lightly over a pink nipple. Smiling, Remus nipped playfully at the corner of his boyfriend's jaw and nuzzled at his throat as he continued his exploration.

When Remus's fingers brushed the soft hollow of his belly, Sirius giggled involuntarily.

"Ticklish?" Remus asked, grinning.

"You wouldn't." Sirius tensed.

Remus kissed the curve of Sirius's collarbone. "Perhaps not right now. Might be useful to know for the future, though."

His index finger found the sparse trail of hair that ran from Sirius's navel to join the nest of black curls at the base of his cock. Sirius shivered.

"Remus -"

"Hmmm?" said Remus, eyeing one of Sirius's nipples and wondering what would happen if he applied his tongue to it.

"Y-you don't have to do this every time."

"I want to. I like touching you. Don't you like it?" His tongue flicked out, tasting pink.

Sirius made a sound. "Doesn't seem fair," he mumbled, "me getting off all the time."

"Mmmm," Remus rubbed his lips against the tiny nub. "Let me worry about 'fair'."

Sirius's head fell back against the pillow as Remus kissed his way down his torso. Squirming farther down the bed, he rested his chin on Sirius's thigh. It was exciting to be able to view Sirius's cock from so close, and to know that he could touch it if he wanted to. He did so, running his knuckles lightly up the underside, then taking the shaft between thumb and finger and slowly rolling Sirius's foreskin up and down. A soft hum of pleasure came from the direction of the pillows.

The skin was velvet-soft, with a loose stretchiness to it. It was unlike any other place on Sirius's body, nor anything else in nature that Remus could think of. Remus was captivated. He traced the path of a vein, then ran his thumb over the smooth head. It felt so strange to the touch, almost like a living thing in its own right as much as a part of Sirius's body. As always, Remus banished the thought of what his own might look and feel like, if he had one. Such thoughts never led anywhere good, and Remus was not about to let them intrude on his private time with Sirius. Instead, he let his fingers drift down to caress Sirius's balls. Another thought was forming in his mind, related to one he had had earlier.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Remus wrapped a hand around the shaft of Sirius's cock, giving it a few of the firm strokes that always made Sirius gasp and whimper. Then he leaned in to lap delicately at the head with the point of his tongue. Sirius's eyes flew open, and he gave a muffled scream. For a moment, the two boys stared at one another. Then Sirius's eyelids fluttered shut.

"Oh, _fuck_," he said distinctly.

The shaft pulsed in Remus's hand as Sirius climaxed, hot spunk jetting onto Remus's lips and chin, and dripping down over his fingers.

"Sorry," panted Sirius. "I should've warned you I was close."

Remus was breathing rather heavily himself. Experimentally, he licked his lips, savouring the strange, musky flavour. "I guess you liked that," he said, smiling and wiping his chin on the back of his hand.

In answer, Sirius reached down to take him by the wrist and draw him back up the bed. Eyes fixed on Remus's, he brought his come-smeared fingers to his lips, and one by one, sucked them clean, tongue running over and tugging at the pad of each finger in turn. Remus's eyes went wide as a bolt of heat shot through him, from Sirius's mouth directly to his groin. A throbbing ache took up residence between his thighs and remained there as Sirius threaded his fingers through Remus's hair, pulling him close for a long and messy kiss.

When he went to dress himself again before James and Peter came back, Remus's pants were so wet that he had to change them. It wasn't the first time he had noticed dampness after being with or thinking about Sirius, but the intensity of the feelings that caused it was becoming harder to ignore. Sometimes Remus had wild, terrifying thoughts about what it might feel like if Sirius touched him there, where the wetness came from. He knew Sirius wanted to touch him, to please him as he pleased Sirius. Sometimes Remus wanted it, too. Thus far, Sirius had expressed no disgust or dismay over Remus's body - indeed, nothing short of delight - but Remus worried that if too much of the focus of their trysts was placed on his body, he would not be able to relax and enjoy it. Even if he had wanted Sirius to do things for him, Remus had no idea what he would want him to do, and he knew Sirius had no experience with bodies resembling his.

Even so, Remus could not help thinking about it, and for the rest of the day, whenever his eyes connected with Sirius's, he heard again the promise his boyfriend had made, and the determination in his voice when he made it. "Next time, I'll find something to do for you."

* * *

Remus spent the first half of Tuesday feeling more nervous than he had since he and Sirius had begun their explorations. He briefly considered begging off sick in order to avoid what might very well be only an exercise in frustration and disappointment. He knew that would be cowardly of him, though. The Gryffindorish thing to do would be to tell Sirius he didn't feel ready to try anything new today, and that he should save his plans, whatever they were, for another time. Or possibly never.

After class, James left for Quidditch practice and Peter departed for the library with a cheery wave. As soon as the dormitory door closed behind them, Sirius began unfastening his robes. But when he looked at Remus, he stopped.

"Are you all right?"

Remus shook his head, eyes downcast, arms crossed protectively in front of him. "Whatever you're planning, I - I can't."

Sirius stepped closer and laid a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Will you at least let me tell you what I had in mind before you say no?"

Biting his lip, Remus nodded.

Sirius kissed his forehead. "First, I was going to ask you to take off as much as you're willing to. Then I'd have you lie down on your front on the bed. I wouldn't touch you anywhere that was still covered without asking. But I would touch you everywhere else. If you didn't like it, you could tell me to stop. I would never make you do anything you're not comfortable with, Remus," he finished softly. "I hope you know that."

Remus looked up into sincere grey eyes. He did know that. The problem wasn't trusting Sirius; it was trusting himself. But nothing Sirius had described sounded particularly scary. "All right."

Smiling, Sirius leaned in to kiss Remus softly on the mouth, then stepped away. "D'you want me to turn my back while you undress?"

"No, it's OK."

Even so, Sirius did not watch him. He shed his clothes much more quickly than Remus did, and by the time Remus began unbuttoning his shirt, Sirius was sitting naked on the bed, knees drawn up to his chin, staring with evident fascination at his own toes. Heart thudding heavily against his ribs, Remus worked loose the last few buttons and shrugged off the shirt. He hesitated a moment over his vest before discarding it as well. Nervous goose-prickles broke out all over his skin as he crawled up onto the bed wearing only his pants and the binding that kept his chest flat. He lay on his front, chin propped on his folded hands, and waited.

A warm hand brushed his back. "Are you cold?"

"A little."

Footsteps padded across the room, and then warmth settled over Remus. Sirius's red and gold afghan. The one James's mother had made for him. It was so immediately comforting that Remus wondered whether she had charmed it.

Curling up beside him, Sirius kissed him again. "We can just do this for a while, if you like."

Remus turned towards him under the blanket and put and arm around Sirius, pulling him closer. In the midst of his attack of nerves, it had escaped him how good it always felt to be close to Sirius, how eager his mouth always was to be kissed. Warmth began to spread through Remus's body, driving away the chill.

Sirius licked and nibbled at his lips. "I want to touch you," he murmured. "So much."

The intensity behind the words sent a shiver down Remus's spine. "I want you to."

"Turn over."

This time, Remus settled onto his front and closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment as Sirius crawled down the bed and uncovered his feet. Cradling a foot in one hand, Sirius pressed his knuckles into the arch, rubbing deep into the muscle. When he did the same to the other foot a moment later, Remus moaned softly. It wasn't a sexual feeling, but it was very pleasant. Even Sirius's lips brushing the bottoms of his feet only tickled. Remus could not suppress a giggle.

"Not exactly what I was hoping for," Sirius teased.

"Then you'll have to try harder."

Sirius's mouth pressed against Remus's ankle, and he began to kiss and nuzzle his way up Remus's legs, pushing the blanket out of the way as he went. It was only when he got to the backs of his knees that Remus gasped. Sirius paused, flicking the tip of his tongue along the sensitive crease, and making Remus whimper.

"D'you like that?" he whispered, blowing on the damp skin.

"_Yes_."

Sirius chuckled and spent several minutes using his mouth and his fingers to turn Remus into a quivering mess before progressing slowly up the backs of his thighs. There, he applied his teeth and fingernails as Remus gasped and fisted his hands in the bedspread. The swollen, throbbing feeling was back between his legs with a vengeance. He tensed, squeezing his thighs together and moaning.

"Remus?" Sirius murmured, sounding a little breathless.

"Uh?"

"Can I touch your arse?"

"I - um -" Remus was having trouble thinking clearly. "Do you want to?"

Sirius's soft laugh sent tendrils of heat curling across Remus's skin. "Do I want to touch one of the finest arses I've ever seen? Yes, I do."

"It's not -"

"It is. Far nicer than James's, and you know how girls are always going on about his. Yours might even be the nicest arse in all of Hogwarts. Can I touch it? It's OK if you don't want me to. I'm happy to just look."

Remus licked his lips. "Y-you can. If you want to."

Straddling his legs, Sirius caressed the backs of Remus's thighs, then slowly ran his hands upwards. His touch was light at first, palms cupping the rounds of Remus's buttocks, thumbs smoothing the fabric of his pants against his skin. Sirius's hands were warm, and as he bent his head to kiss the bare skin of Remus's lower back, Remus felt his erection rubbing between his thighs. It felt wonderful. He moved his hips, pressing back against the touch as Sirius's fingers massaged him.

"_Sirius_ -" he moaned.

Quick breaths puffed across the damp skin of Remus's back. Sirius's mouth was hot, his tongue teasing its way up Remus's spine. One hand remained on his arse as Sirius crawled up the bed to kiss his shoulders and neck before finding his mouth again, hurrying the last distance like a diver coming up for air. Remus could taste the salt of his own sweat on Sirius's tongue as they kissed hungrily. He wrapped an arm around the other boy, pulling him close and turning towards him, loving the feel of Sirius's heat-damp skin against his own.

"Did you like that?" Sirius asked.

"Yes." Remus kissed him again. "How did you think of doing that?"

Sirius grinned. "Lying in my bed at night, thinking of you and touching myself everywhere to see what felt good."

"Mmmm ..." he nuzzled at Sirius's throat. "That sounds nice."

"It was. I got so hard, just like now -" he pressed his hips against Remus's belly, "- but I wasn't allowed to touch myself there."

"Did you come, touching yourself like that?" Remus asked, tongue finding the sensitive place below Sirius's ear.

"Yes."

"Wish I could've seen that."

"Play your cards right, and maybe you will."

Remus covered Sirius's mouth with his own, licking deeply into him as his hand slid down Sirius's back to squeeze his arse, pulling the other boy tightly to him. Sirius rubbed against him again, moaning into Remus's mouth. The sweet ache between Remus's legs was almost unbearable. Was this how Sirius felt? Experimentally, he pressed his hips into Sirius's thigh, grinding against him. The feeling of pressure and friction sent a shiver of pleasure through his belly.

"Remus -" Sirius panted in his ear.

The hand on Remus's arse tightened as Sirius's other arm slid around his shoulders, pulling him down. Sirius lay back against the pillows, eyes dark and pleading, lips parted, chest heaving, spread out with Remus lying half on top of him. Remus moved to taste his mouth, and his groin brushed against Sirius's erection. Sirius groaned, arching up against him, and Remus swallowed a gasp as the shaft of his boyfriend's cock rubbed against the aching place between his legs. He ground down, seeking more of that sweet feeling.

Sirius's hands were scrabbling at Remus's sweaty back. A hand slid under the waistband of his pants to grip his arse as the two boys clung together, desperately grinding into one another. Remus's breath came in gasps at Sirius's throat. The thin fabric of his pants was soaking wet, and it felt almost as if Sirius's hard cock was rubbing directly against him.

Remus gave a sharp cry and clutched at Sirius as white-hot pleasure shuddered through him.

"Oh, _Merlin_," gasped Sirius, arms tightening around him as his hips jerked and stuttered under Remus's.

There was a moment of stillness. Remus lay in Sirius's arms, eyes wide, mouth pressed to Sirius's shoulder, afraid to move. Then Sirius gave a contented sigh. One of his hands moved to stroke Remus's hair.

Remus pulled away, grabbing for the blanket and wrapping it around himself, looking anywhere but at Sirius. "I - uh -"

Sirius sat up. "What's wrong?"

Cheeks burning, Remus shook his head.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Sirius looked disappointed. "It seemed like you did."

"I-I don't know," stammered Remus. "I haven't - that's never -"

Sirius stared at him. "You've never come before?"

Remus bit his lip, shaking his head.

"Don't you wank?" Sirius sounded bewildered.

"It - feels wrong," Remus tried to explain, a helpless gesture encompassing his bad relationship with his body.

Sirius took Remus's flailing hand in his own. "Did it feel wrong this time?"

"I don't know," said Remus. "It felt - strange."

"I'm sorry," said Sirius. "I didn't mean to push you into doing something you weren't ready for."

Remus raised his eyes to the troubled look on Sirius's face. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it." Sirius's eyes went soft. "I'm just worried that I've cocked everything up and upset my boyfriend by having sex with him before he was ready."

Remus's eyebrows shot up. "That didn't count. Did it?"

Sirius looked down, lacing his fingers through Remus's. "It felt like it did." He raised Remus's fingers to his lips and kissed them. "We were together."

Remus swallowed a sudden tightness in his throat and squeezed Sirius's fingers. "I'm not upset. I was just - surprised."

"I hope it wasn't a bad surprise, then."

"No. Not bad." Overwhelming, confusing, terrifying, impossible to process. But not _bad_.

Sirius leaned in to kiss Remus softly on the mouth. "It's all right if you don't want to count it, Remus. It's all right if you don't want to do it again. We can go back to just kissing, if that's better for you. Whatever you decide, I'm glad you were my first."


End file.
